


It's Alright (Say Her Name)

by CaptainRivaini



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Character Death, F/F, Female Friendship, Femslash, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:11:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainRivaini/pseuds/CaptainRivaini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michonne loses herself after Andrea, seeing visions and hearing voices of the past that she cannot erase. And the only thing that stops her from losing it completely? Beth Greene. But the Governor is still on the loose and if Michonnes wants to survive Beth's going to have to find a way to help them both. (Main focus on Michonne and Andrea/Michonne's relationship)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Alright (Say Her Name)

She’s heavy in her arms.

A weight that was so unbearable that not only did it weigh her arms down but it settled on top of Michonne’s shoulders too, it was a weight no sane man could carry and yet Michonne was not a man but a woman and at times like this she still wasn’t quite sure if she was sane or not.

She snorted at herself. Of course she’s not sane, nobody is in this world where the dead roam and the living die to carry on the cycle as though it’s always been that way. And maybe it has if one looked close enough, but that isn’t what matters right now is it? It’s never mattered and now? Nothing matters.

Michonne’s knees threatened to buckle as she carried the wrapped body towards the now cleared field of walkers towards the make-shift graveyard that held the other bodies of the ones Rick’s group loved (not her group, not now, not anymore), but she trudged on as best as she could under the sweltering heat of the sun until she reached her destination and only _then_ did she allow herself to buckle under the physical and emotional strain that bore down upon her.

Andrea’s body is small in death, all wrapped up in white and tiny like she belonged on a pedestal somewhere and not in the dirty hole Michonne would have to prepare for her soon enough if she wanted to be back at the prison before dark settled in. Maybe she didn’t want to go back, maybe it would better to let this darkness swallow them both up because at least then would the woman feel at _peace_.

The tears are already there but it still didn’t stop the anger at shedding them course through Michonne like wildfire. It’s an anger that is fuelled by guilt and the questions of what ifs that had once been there previously at the back of her mind, yet was now propelled to the front as if they belonged there with her for the rest of her life as a constant reminder of the mistakes she had made.

She hated crying even before the whole world went to shit. Her ex-husband had called her a pussy for it and Mike had always teased as gently as he possibly could about her being emotional but here she was again, crying as if that would change everything that had happened in the past.

Andrea’s smile as she presses the gun to her temple haunted Michonne as she sat in this hellhole of heat and bright sun, the weather so vibrant and bright that it made her cry out in frustration because what right did this world have being so peaceful and happy when her old companion’s body hadn’t even been cold for 24 hours.

How could she make sense out of that? How could the world even make sense of that? Nothing made sense and nothing mattered; it was a deadly combination that had Michonne pulling Andrea’s cold body wrapped up in sheets tighter against her chest with a grip that screamed how terrified of letting go she truly was.

The sheet slips the tiniest fraction to allow her to feel the silkiness of golden locks against her skin, it’s a terrible combination considering how sweaty her palms are and how the sweat caused the strands to tangle in between her fingers but all it did was cause Michonne to hold onto the cold body tighter and bury her warm face against an ice-cold body so that all she can feel is tiny shudders in the blazing heat that bore down upon her to soak her back in sweat.

It’s not fair, she realized with an anguished cry coming from her throat to echo into the clearing of the prison gates, it’s not fair that she had to die to allow Michonne to open her eyes and see what was in front of her, it’s not fair she died before Michonne could tell her everything that needed to be told. It’s just not fair.

She didn’t quite know how long she sat there with Andrea’s lifeless body pulled into her lap and her nose pressed against the beautiful blonde curls but when she finally opened her eyes to look around the field it isn’t lost on her on how the sun is starting to sink lower and lower, signalling to Michonne that maybe it is the actual time to get moving if she wanted to head back to the prison with at least a little light to guide her way.

“What happened to letting this damn darkness swallow you whole?” A voice called to her on the little amount of wind available in the area, said voice being familiar to her as a song that was now old but never forgotten even with the whole world collapsing around her. “You putting your crazy ass plan on hold now?”

Michonne knew who it was before she even turned to glance to her right to see a tall, hunkering man wearing nothing but denim shorts and an overly large dress shirt with sandals to boot; it was an outfit that held nothing but fond memories of times at the beach where the sun had been an old friend and not the enemy that it was now and the man watching her was someone she could feel and touch and not look at from afar like she was right now.

She ignored him regardless and silently moved from under Andrea’s limp body, placing the woman gently down on the grass and pressing a kiss to her old companion’s head as she slowly got up from her knees to stare down at the white sheet that held the object of her every waking dream and nightmare, and how both were so beautiful and terrifying that they left Michonne not knowing if she wanted them to leave her forever or haunt her until her final days.

Footsteps; not the slovenly muffled scratch of gravel that signal walkers, no, more so the repeated step of someone not wanting to be here but coming along any way which certainly made them more foolish than expected considering Michonne had made it perfectly clear that she wanted to be alone to bury Andrea.

The thought made her hang her head and breathe in deeply – even in death she didn’t want anyone else to share her, and Michonne still didn’t know if that made her possessive, protective or insane when it came to her dedication to the now deceased woman. Perhaps it was a little bit of all three.

She risked a glance to her left to see the figure of none other than Hershel’s youngest daughter Beth Greene making her way over to her with two shovels in each hand, her footsteps halting every few steps due to the weight of the things she had in her hand and her brow creased in frustration at the slow process of her making her way over to the field where Michonne stood.

Michonne felt herself wanting to leave to help the younger girl but that was before she had noticed the second shovel in the girl’s hand and that in particular would not do, so she remained where she stood and stared down at the still body at her feet (swallowing the thick lump in her throat) until the sound of shuffling feet faded away into nothing but heavy pants of exertion and the single choking cough that signalled the other girl’s thirst probably before Beth herself knew of it.

When she finally did look at Beth it was no surprise to see that the girl looked extremely intimidated by her even before she had actually spoken, yet that still didn’t make it any harder for her to speak to the blonde girl when she felt so bitter she could hardly give a damn if the girl was scared of her or not.

“I only need one shovel,” she said, eyes hardened in annoyance as she stared down at the grimy fingers wrapped around the rusted handles of each shovel.

Michonne was surprised the girl didn’t flinch at how fast she took the shovel from the girl’s hand but it did look like the blonde had a few tricks of her own as when Michonne tried to take the other shovel to throw on the ground she was instead greeted with the Greene girl side-stepping her, her face stoic in a way that made the warrior feel uneasy in watching her.

“My daddy said I should try an’ help you,” Beth said with a shrug, eyes averting Michonne’s own to stare at the covered body only a few steps beside the warrior. “He said you shouldn’t have to do it on your own.”

That caused Michonne to snort louder than she intended as she narrowed her eyes at the blonde girl, one arm crossed over her chest whilst the other sunk the shovel into the ground next to her with one massive swoop of her arm; the impact of metal on dirt causing a huge sound that made Beth flinch away with her lip already being chewed by her teeth with an anxiousness that reminded Michonne of…

She sighed; not everything needed to be about Andrea. “I told the group I didn’t want or need their help on this.”

Beth still didn’t look like she was going to go; in fact her face just became more and more hardened despite the betrayal of nervousness that was clear in the girl’s eyes and her voice as she spoke once more. “Daddy said I should and…I want to help. You, and the group. I want to help.”

Michonne growled low in her throat and turned her back on the other girl, her hands on her hips and frustrated tears in her eyes as she looked down at the body in front of her; wishing silently that she had enough strength to properly tell the girl where to go yet she knew that she could not do that that even if she tried. She despised the fact the girl was with here at this point but she also knew that if she yelled at the girl then it would do nothing but cause trouble.

Still, she would at least voice her annoyance. “Do you do everything your father says for you to do?”

“You don’t have to be mean about it,” Beth said with a tone that was fiercer than Michonne had expected of the girl despite the quiet volume of her voice, said voice being the reason why she turned around with a glare to see the girl still staring sadly at the white sheet behind of her. “We all cared about her and…”

“You didn’t know a damn thing about her,” Michonne snapped at the blonde girl before she could stop herself, advancing until she towered over the younger girl. “What gives you the right to say that? _You didn’t know a damn thing!_ ”

A flash of defensiveness appeared in the younger girl’s eyes, a flash that Michonne wasn’t prepared for at all. “I know you’re angry but taking it out on the people around you won’t bring her back! Daddy said that after we’re done we can wake up early tomorrow to perform a sending off for her, so if we do this quickly then it won’t be so…”

Michonne had turned her back on the girl again, cutting her off with a grunt of anger that echoed across the clearing before all fell silent.

“You ain’t gonna be able to dig that hole by yourself without collapsing sooner or later,” the voice to her right told her, annoying and familiar and when she looked she finally was able to place the name to the face as Mike Pritchard stared back at her with a frown of disappointment that had only appeared on his face whenever her temper and pride had gotten the better of her. “Might as well let her help, least your blonde friend got a grave.”

“Shut the hell up,” she growled in answer, a new wave of shame and guilt overtaking her and making her body slink down to rest against the handle of the shovel she had dug into the ground, anything to keep her up and going. “This is different and you’re not real. You’re not real.”

A smile graced Mike’s face, genuine and friendly in a way that Michonne knew she didn’t deserve no matter how friendly it looked like. “Real as you want me to be princess, but what were you expecting? For me to be tall, blonde and a lady to boot? Looks like you’re trying not to think about her.”

The words made her eyes sting and with a snarl she ripped the sword from her sheath and threw it at the image of her boyfriend, eyes widening in fear as slowly Mike disappeared from view and all she could see was her sword lying in the long grass, the sun glinting off the blade nicely in the sun.

It was in the silence did Michonne realize that Beth Greene was still here, her fears answered when she looked over her shoulder to see that the blonde girl was staring at her with her lips pursed together in a firm line and her eyes narrowed intently to the floor to try and avoid eye contact; it was a look that made Michonne sigh and cup her forehead in annoyance.

Everything always seemed to lead to questions no matter what she did, but now it was Michonne who was in charge and with another quick glance back at the Greene girl she pointed at the place in the ground where she wanted Andrea to be buried.

“Start there.”

* * *

 

The ceremony is one that Michonne didn’t go to no matter how many times Rick tried to get her to leave the safety of the prison. It didn’t sit right with her though, the fact that she hadn’t gone, but she couldn’t find the strength that Andrea had brought with her presence to actually get up from her tattered mattress and make her way towards the ceremony along with the rest of the group.

In the end they had all gone apart from her and Carl, the boy saying he would rather honour Andrea by placing a bullet in the head of the person who had been the reason for her death in the first place than singing hymns – and from the look of unease on Rick’s face? Perhaps the line of whom to blame and who was the cause was starting to blur the lines between family and foe – yet Michonne couldn’t find it in herself to actually consider the boy’s words.

He was wrong regardless, he would not be the one to kill the Governor and his allies no matter how hard he tried – Phillip Blake was hers and she would carve out his heart so slowly that his screams would echo for miles and miles until everyone knew what had occurred and why. Michonne would make sure of it. The Governor was hers and hers _alone_.

The group came back just as the sun was about to set and with a quick glance at them Michonne could see that they had all gotten teary during the ceremony, the pang of pain at seeing them like this making a way to her heart and thawing it all the more at how such a pain did not deserve her any longer no matter how much it hurt to see everyone in the same pain as she was.

But they weren’t experiencing the same pain, she reasoned after a few moments of solitary silence, they hadn’t spent almost nine months with the blonde, they hadn’t protected her when her fever threatened to break through and silence her completely, they hadn’t been there to search for pills and medication to try and help her companion feel better – they had no clue, they hadn’t been there.

She counted the number of steps and clicks of crutches before she was joined in her dingy room by Hershel and the youngest Greene girl, both of them wavering near her door as though they were afraid to come in and disturb her. Perhaps they were at that, she knew she wouldn’t blame them for wanting to leave her to her own thoughts to lessen the chance of retaliation if they tried to talk to her.

“You missed out on the burial Michonne,” the old man stated plainly and when she looked up to address him properly she was only somewhat surprised to see his bible in the very palm of his hand as he placed it down on the little cabinet drawer next to where she slept. “It was very beautiful, something fitting for Andrea. We would have liked you to come and share a few words, but I understand why you’d not want to. Maybe you could visit with…”

“You don’t know what would have fit her,” Michonne cut across the old man, eyes glaring up defiantly to stare into eyes of electric blue with an intensity that she hoped rivalled if not overcame Hershel’s in this battle of fire and love loss that still burned her deeply inside.

Hershel’s eyes only softened when in truth Michonne had expected them to harden in anger, but no, it seemed as though everyone was either wary of her or pitied her. And she still didn’t know which one was worse.

“If you’d like to talk,” were the old man’s departing words as he turned on his crutches to hobble away, leaving Michonne and Beth together in the tiny cramped room of the cage the warrior had imprisoned herself in.

Michonne met Beth’s gaze briefly before she lowered her eyes to the ground and clenched her jaw to stop herself from saying anything she may later regret, and by regret she meant it would cause an even bigger rift between her and the young blonde girl than before and that was most certainly not needed now when everyone was still so on edge after everything that had went on.

Her eyes threatened to flicker upwards to acknowledge the blonde girl more fully at the sound of her clearing her throat, but Michonne decided to ignore it as much as she possible could by focusing her attention onto the floor even when the Greene girl finally started to talk.

“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you,” Beth faltered for half a moment, her voice cracking under the emotional strain that sounded so painful to Michonne’s ears that she couldn’t help but look up at the girl with her heart squeezing painfully at the sight of the girl gripping so tightly onto her right arm that she was sure she would eventually bruise if she didn’t stop; and yet the girl couldn’t stop herself from speaking, “I will help you,  I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

Michonne bit her lip as she continued to stare at the younger girl, refusing to comment even when Beth’s eyes pleaded her to do so; it would not be fair on the girl for Michonne to answer, especially when she was so angry that she feared that if she did actually answer it would only upset the girl more, and she had a very bad feeling she had already hurt enough people this past month; including herself.

Beth shrugged a few moments after the silence became too much, her voice finding a strength in it that still shocked Michonne no matter how many times she heard it. “It’s from the bible.”

“I know,” Michonne stated plainly with her own shrug of her shoulders, eyes burning into the girl’s with an intensity that made the other girl look the other way with nerves before returning to her original stance with head held high to meet Michonne’s gaze with a determination in her eyes that was so very weak it only made it harder for Michonne to look at her.

Beth made her way over to sit on the small crate in the corner of Michonne’s room, yet before she even got half way she hesitated before falling to a complete stand still right in the middle of the warrior’s room, looking so small all in white with her little beanie hat tucked so low that it covered her ears; it was almost as if she was watching Andrea if Michonne closed her eyes tight enough and willed the memories of her companion dying in her arms away.

“I’m just,” Beth started before once more she faltered, her lips being worried by the top of her teeth as she tried desperately to find the words. “I’m just trying to make you feel better because, because…I think what you need right now is a friend.”

Michonne can’t deny that the girl isn’t sweet for trying, but she lost the only friend she ever wanted a few days ago, so this whole attempt? It hurt more than it possibly helped, and she voiced that instantly with a tone of subtly hidden malice that left a vicious taste on her tongue.

Beth took only one look at her then, eyes wide and innocent which throw Michonne off completely once the look is strung along with the words that tumbled from the girl’s mouth.

“I think Andrea was much more to you, she was our family but to you she was…She was more you know? She was…”

Michonne gritted her teeth and clenched her fists behind her back. “Get out.”

The blonde girl only nodded sadly before she departed with a small wave that shouldn’t make Michonne feel even more terrible than she already feels but it does, and now she’s stuck in a constant state of guilt over two things now; it made everything blur and when everything blurred she hallucinated and when she hallucinated she grew more and more disappointed at the lack of blonde and blue eyes that she wants to flicker just behind her eyes.

* * *

 

Michonne didn’t hear Andrea speak to her until what she suspected was two weeks after the day of the blonde’s burial, maybe more than that but she had stopped counting days and had instead started to count memories and regrets and how many she wished she could change if she had the power to do so.

It isn’t like Mike’s voice that suddenly appeared one day, it’s more of a sound in the wind as she’s clearing the field with the Greene sisters - she hasn’t glanced at the youngest since the whole incident in her room but she can feel Beth’s gaze on her everywhere she goes and she doesn’t quite know what to make of it – with Maggie on her left and Beth shooting at stragglers from behind the safety of the fence that blocks the walkers away from her.

The sound is strong but quiet and when she heard the chuckle in the wind it’s also a reminder of what she lost and that in itself distracted her to the point that she almost dropped her sword as she cleared the area of the last walker, eyes wide and ears perked as she moved from side to side to try and locate the destination of it.

Maggie called her name but she can’t actually hear it, too distracted by the noise that she had wanted to hear for what she had only told herself for only a brief second, but that was before she actually heard it because now she wanted with a fierceness that tore at her heart and set her off running across the field towards the entrance of the prison.

The chuckle is louder as she neared the entrance, the sound enticing her further and further until she can only press against the wired fence with her hands clutching the thin wires with a strength that cuts her hands even as she pressed her face into the metal, searching still for the laughter that she had heard only moments ago and wondering why it’s suddenly disappeared when she had been so sure she had heard it…

A sigh left her at the sickening realization that it wouldn’t come back, not this time with her mind fully alert and focused on hearing it again. God was a cruel judge and with the shit she had gone through for the past few weeks? It was looking more and more likely that God probably resented her.

The thought of God brings her mind back to the Greenes, specifically the youngest of the family whom Michonne only had to look back at behind her shoulder to see that the blonde had joined her sister in making her way over to her, the very sight of them making her panic in such a way that the metal only digs in deeper as she clenched her fingers around the metal even tighter than before.

“You never think about me,” the chuckle is long gone, replaced with an antagonistic tone of anger and fury that made Michonne bite her lip to stop herself from sobbing aloud because she had been so certain that when she finally did hear her voice (it had always been a matter of time after all) that the voice would be one that would bring a smile to her face.

How wrong and foolish she had been.

She found herself resting her forehead on the links of the fence, eyes downcast to stare at the dirt and long grass, anything to stop herself from thinking properly, anything to stop herself from actually focusing.

“You left me there, you never explained,” it’s accusation after accusation and the worst part is that it’s all the truth and she didn’t know which one hurt more, the fact that it’s coming from _her_ or the fact that it’s a truth that threatened to rip her in two, “you didn’t try, you didn’t think of me, you never said it, you never said it, you never said it Michonne.”

The voice was so loud and Michonne’s vision was becoming blurrier and blurrier until finally the hilt of her sword drops from her hands and she whirled around to try and keep on her feet, feeling so unbelievably dizzy that she didn’t see the two forms running towards her before it was far too late and she fell to her knees with her head covered by her arms in a futile attempt to block everything out, to block absolutely everything out until all she can hear is the silence.

Hands grab at her and she allowed them to, eyes remaining shut as she’s lifted from off the ground to make her unsteady walk back to the prison with her blurred vision still keeping her from seeing everything but the waves of yellow that dance in the breeze.

* * *

 

She awoke to soft hands wiping a cool towel against her head, soothing away the raw, painful heat that had been present when she had been outside the prison’s gates. The blue eyes and blonde locks aren’t lost on her and for a moment Michonne thought she was back in that meat locker with her old companion and friend, and so because of that she found her hand moving upwards to touch the delicate, pale skin with a laugh spilling from her lips.

It had all been a dream. Everything had been a dream.

“You’re alive,” Michonne chuckled with relief, hands tracing the soft contour of the jaw hovering above her with a reverence she knew she would be hearing off the blonde woman later because of course she couldn’t show emotion around her companion, not without getting a teasing jape that hey, she actually did show emotion.

The press of lips against her forehead made her exhale deeply and wrap her arms around thin shoulders, pressing the warm body into her own as she breathed deeply to try and calm her racing heart as the hallucinations of seeing this woman above her die rushed through her head on replay; yet it was all a lie. She was here and now Michonne had the chance to say everything. Everything she ever wanted.

The body is pulled back from her and with a grunt Michonne reached forward to grip at hand nearest to her, holding the blonde woman whom she had spent 8 months with to a standstill.

“Andrea don’t go just yet, I have to…” Michonne found herself trailing off, anxiety robbing her of words as she struggled to find the right ones to confess everything to the woman whilst she had the chance, to make things right, to correct wrongs, this was her chance and for that she needed the right words.

“Michonne,” the voice was warm and sweet and so agonizingly familiar that when the warrior blinked hard and her vision returned to normal she had to trap the feral cry that wanted to leave her throat as tears of anger and resentment made her eyes burn at the person above her.

Beth Greene stared down at her, eyes wide, lips bitten to shreds and her breathing heavy as she hesitated placing the now dirty towel over Michonne’s forehead.

“Michonne,” Beth said again, her voice stronger now as she placed the rag down to press Michonne back down onto the mattress she had been lying on to regain some more rest. “Daddy said you need to lie down and rest, he said somethin’ about the sun cookin’ your brain a little outside. Makin’ you hear stuff.”

The warrior processed the information slowly, eyes flickering to and fro as she examined the room and noticed that not only was the overbearing figure she had expected to be here (she had hoped to be here) was not actually here, but there was also the problem that she couldn’t see her sword anywhere.

“My sword,” she stated with a hacking cough that came out of nowhere but forced her to sit up regardless and have Beth’s hands rub at her back to help her, the same hands that Michonne had come so close to pressing against her lips to confess all she could to someone who wasn’t even here anymore apart from in her damn mind.

Beth smiled sweetly, moving to the side so she could reveal the sword that she had laid down behind her. “Daryl went and got it for you once we all got you back in here,” her voice turned quieter, almost as if she was ashamed. “We were all really worried about you, so we made sure none of the people from Woodbury saw you; it might scare them you know?”

Michonne didn’t know but she didn’t want to give the satisfaction of her saying that to see Beth’s expression change so dramatically to herself, there was no time for guilty pleasures and it had taken her this long to realize that these talks with the young girl had become one – one that she now hated.

Silence passed between them both, not an uncomfortable silence of sorts at first, more so a silence of understanding as the warrior watched the Greene girl twist the rag over a bowel of water to get rid of the dirty water stained on the rag in the first place; it was an understanding because Michonne had a feeling that the young girl understood (probably more than any one apart from Rick) how she felt right now and so remained busy to avoid any more confrontation.

Beth was a clever girl and so it didn’t shock the darker woman when Beth only took one look at her, dropped the rag into the bowel and started to make her exit to pause at the doorway and shoot Michonne a glance that made the warrior’s stomach tighten at how from this angle she could just about see a longer, more defined jaw in replacement for the young, curved jaw of Beth Greene; a comparison that made Michonne bite the inside of her cheek at how ridiculous it sounded.

“If you ever want to talk about it,” Beth said with a firm nod that made her hesitant smile look fake against her face. “Then you should just come out and say it. Some things get better when they’re said you know?”

Michonne gulped loudly and settled her eyes to the floor, ignoring the way Andrea’s shadow seemed to pass to and from her doorway like a phantom come to haunt her.

She did know that, she knew that better than anyone.

“You never said it.” Andrea whispered in her ear before she too was gone and Michonne was left in a room with only her thoughts for company.

 

 


End file.
